Tell Dally
by drapes
Summary: Johnny died gallant and a hero, loved by all who knew him. In remembering him, Dallas is left on the side lines. Tim and Sylvia are left to remember the Dallas they had known and understood, the Dallas that the gang never got to see.
1. Chapter 1

**Tell Dally**

It was the fall of 1965, and in such a short amount of time so much had changed. It was a cold November day, the wind whipping through the crisp air. There were couples taking long walks through the park, children sipping hot chocolate by the fireplace, and a group of kids who had grown up way too fast attending a funeral.

Darry was in charge of all the funeral arrangements, both Johnny and Dally's. He knew Johnny's parents didn't give a hang about him, and had quite easily convinced them to allow him to plan a nice service; one that they hadn't attended. Maybe it was their pride, or their regret, maybe they just didn't give a shit. He tried to get a hold of Dallas's father, all he got was 3 rings and a disconnect. It seemed fitting to have their burials on the same day, they would have wanted it that way.

There was by no means a large supply of money, it took everyone pitching in to even make one burial happen. Mrs. Mathews donated a big chunk to the cause, money that she didn't have, money that she could have used for her own family. But it was her family, they were all a family. Cherry stuck an envelope with some money in it in the Curtis's mailbox. No one knows she did it, it would only bring about more problems for her. Sylvia and Evie even pitched in some, along with Tim Shepard and Jerry. Ponyboy pretended he didn't remember Jerry, but everyone knew he did.

Two-Bit was always jokes and high energy, but no one will ever forget the day he came crying, stumbling into the Curtis household about how it was his fault Ponyboy was in bad shape. He had lost two friends, he wasn't ready to lose another. Steve nearly collapsed at the sight of his friend laying dead in the street. Johnny was dead too, but it was seeing it up close and personal that really killed him. Dallas was his buddy. Soda was so busy trying to keep everyone else sane that he never had any time to grieve. Between losing his two friends, almost losing his two brothers, he couldn't take it all. He had a breakdown that everyone saw coming. Sometimes you can still catch that movie star grin of his. Ponyboy had a hard time coming to terms with what had happened up in Windrixville, and in the days following. There are still details that only he knows, that he can't forget despite him constantly trying. Darry was sitting over the kitchen table one night trying to figure out how the bills for the funeral were all going to pan out. He wondered if he would have to sell his truck.

"You can use this, Darry. I promise I'll work real hard and get a scholarship. I won't even need it, honest," Ponyboy exited Darry's room carrying a water jug labeled _Ponyboy's College Savings_. He must have found it in the back of Darry's closet, because he had never told anyone about it. There was a decent amount of money in it, but it was for Ponyboy. He wanted so badly for his baby brother to have what he never got to have. Ponyboy tries to forget the image of his brother sitting there with his head in his hands, sobbing. He had put so much into Ponyboy's education already and he wasn't going to give it up that easily.

It was an eerie sight to whoever may be visiting a loved one in the graveyard, or to someone who was passing by. A group of less than ten people, none exceeding the age of 20. They were not gathered around one casket, but two. Death was something that happened so frequently, but never amongst their own. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis's funeral was something completely different. They were adults, they had jobs and families, and they had lived. Johnny and Dallas had their whole lives ahead of them. No matter how you slice it, they were just kids.

If you looked closely you could probably see the tear roll down Two-Bit's cheek as he peered into Johnny's casket. There was nothing he could do for Dallas, he knew it, everyone knew it. He just wished more than anything that he had walked Johnny and Ponyboy home, maybe he could have helped them. Steve had invited Evie to come, probably so he wouldn't fall apart. She was a tough girl, but she had a big heart. Nobody could miss the quiet sniffles escaping from her. Steve just held her, and in a way, it was like she was holding him. Ponyboy stood in between his brothers, each of them almost shielding him. His eyes were constantly wet, for the loss of his best buddy and the towheaded kid who had secretly taken a liking to him. Sodapop just stood numb to it all, he had already been through so much these past few weeks. Darry was tired, that was the only way anyone could describe it. He had put so much into each one of the boys, and it seemed that this was it. He could finally take a breath and say goodbye.

Most surprising to everyone was who else had shown up, Tim Shepard. No one in the gang had known Tim that well, they were all sort of indifferent to him. Dallas, however, had a twisted sort of friendship with him. They hated one another, and would do anything to get a rise out of each other. They were there when the chips were down, though. One time Soda made a comment about Angela and Dallas near punched him in the nose. They often partied together at Buck's, but no one knew much about their relationship. But he was there, gazing over Dallas's casket with a blank expression.

It was just a matter of time before that certain someone, who they were all expecting, showed up. She almost appeared out of nowhere, in a little black dress, something clutched tightly in her hand. Sylvia. The boys had only met her on a few occasions, but Tim knew her well. They sure heard a lot about her, though. Her usual bottle-blonde hair was gone, in its place was her natural brunette locks.

"Would you quit dying your hair so much? Pretty soon it's going to all fall out and I'll having nothin' to pull on," Dallas would smirk, grabbing a fistful of Sylvia's hair.

"In your dreams, lover boy," Sylvia would push him away. He always liked her brown hair, but she had grown so used to her light colored hair. He was always nagging on her to let her roots grow out, and she'd come close to it a few times. Maybe it was just the aspect of him not getting his way that kept her dying it.

It sent a shiver down the boys' spines as she walked over to them, hair brown. It really showed her undying love for Dallas. She would have done anything for him, even in his death.

It was a silent service, everyone was quietly reflecting on their memories with the two teenagers who were gone much too quickly. The quiet was often broken up by Sylvia's unrelenting sobs. Tim simply just threw an arm around her, a sign of affection he rarely showed. She loved Dallas, even if he hadn't loved her. Johnny was the only thing Dally had ever loved, and he showed that with his death-by-cops ending. He may not have loved Sylvia, but he truly cared for her.

Ponyboy caught a glimpse of what Sylvia was holding in her hand. Dally's ring on that cheap chain he got her.

"The little broad wouldn't shut up about my goddamn ring not fitting her so I got her this," Dallas showed us the chain he probably lifted.

"That's the ugliest thing I ever seen," Two-Bit broke out into spurts of laughter. He ended up with a pillow in his face.

He tried to think back to the night Johnny had killed Bob Sheldon, when they had gone to Dally for help. Or when Dallas had come up to Windrixville to check on him and Johnny. He couldn't remember seeing the ring on his finger. Sure he was talking about taking Cherry Valance out, but that didn't mean anything. Sylvia and Dallas were an on-again-off-again couple, but they always ended up back together.

Everyone watched as Sylvia walked over to Dally's casket with Tim, brushing his blonde locks out of his face. She was always bugging him to get a haircut. Sylvia released her grip on the chain, placing it Dallas's hand. Tim could just picture a smart-ass remark from Dallas right now.

"What the hell am I going to do with that if I'm dead?" He'd say. It was true, Dally would have wanted Sylvia to have it.

Darry caught a glimpse of Tim whispering something in Sylvia's ear. Sylvia nodded, taking the ring back with a high-pitched cry. She loved Dallas, God, did she ever love him.

Johnny was a fallen hero, a kid who got the short end of the stick. He was everyone's little brother and everyone cared about him. He was in the paper the day after he died, they made a point of mentioning him saving the kids from the burning church. He was remembered even in his death as the shy, tanned boy who everyone loved.

There was no mention of Dallas. He was just another hood on the streets, dead like everyone knew he would be sooner or later. Nobody knew why Johnny loved Dally so much, and now they never would. He would take his love for Dally to the grave, and Dally would be taken to the grave because of his love for Johnny.

The gang all liked Dallas, but they could never understand him. He was a mystery to everyone, his cold blue eyes let no one in. Sylvia and Tim could get him, though. And now they were left to remember the Dallas they knew, the Dallas they had grown to like. That no good hood held something that had drawn them to him over the years, and now they had to pick up the pieces.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Dallas wasn't always the cold, mean boy he'd grown up to be. His change could be attributed to his home life, where he grew up, maybe he was even just a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. As a small child Dallas was so full of life, so willing to learn. Everything he did burst with passion, he was just a normal 5 year old boy.

Dally's father didn't stick around, once he found out he'd gotten Dally's mom pregnant he skipped town. He was a hood, he didn't want to be tied down with children no matter how much he liked the sound of _Elaine Winston_. Dally always wondered why his mom decided to give him his father's last name, in his eyes he was useless. His mom was a good girl, high off the feeling of having a bad boy show her some attention. It seems as if history repeated itself.

Growing up, Dally and his mom had a nice relationship. He wasn't the type to kiss her goodnight, but when his friends came over after school he wouldn't let them eat her favorite pudding. Dallas was always craving male attention, though, with not having a father or brother. Sometimes his dad sent a birthday card, but they never came anywhere close to his birthday. They stopped coming when he was five. He wondered why he sent them, maybe it was to keep his mother happy, or because he felt guilty, maybe he was mocking him. He looked to some of the older boys in school for some guidance, things he couldn't talk about with his mother.

In fourth grade someone made the accusation that Dally's mother was a floozy for not being married and having a kid. That was the first time Dally broke someone's nose. A few of the big kids saw it and got the impression that he was tough. They accepted him, and for the first time, Dallas had some kind of acceptance from an older male. It was what he always craved.

He began spending time with them and their older brothers and friends. He stopped showing up in the field behind the school for football. He left the house early and came home late, he was worrying his mother to death. New York City was a rough place in the late fifties, and it's no wonder he fell into the wrong crowd. Jail, drugs, booze, girls; it all became a part of his lifestyle. He saw friends die, but he was in too deep to ever get out. He was twelve years old when he took place in his first murder, his job was to lure the man in. Who would ever suspect a scrawny little kid? He went home and cried, but he met up with his gang the next day.

Dally's mother had saw her little boy transform before her eyes. She tried everything, but nothing could tame him. If she'd ground him he'd just leave the house while she was at work or running errands. She knew she had to do something or her son was going to be one of the many young faces in the obituary section of the paper. She loved Dallas, and because of that, she had to let him go.

Dally remembers hearing yelling on the phone some nights. He never knew who she was talking to, but boy, did he have an idea.

"He's your kid, too!" She'd scream into the line. Dally thought maybe she was trying to get him to come up and visit, that'd be stupid.

"He is going to die," she'd repeat over and over again. "You have to help me." Dally'd just put his pillow over his head.

It came as a surprise when he came home one night, buzzed from a party down the street. His mother was sitting on his bed, tears streaming down her face. All the contents of his closet were packed into two small luggage bags.

"The fuck is going on?" he stammered out. He still felt weird cursing in front of his mother.

"You're going to live with your father in Oklahoma," she explained. Next came the obscenities flowing out of Dally's mouth, followed by protests. He felt like his mother was abandoning him, just like his father had done many years ago. His whole life was here, his gang. He couldn't just up and leave like that to go to some hell in the middle of nowhere, to live with a man who didn't give a shit about him.

"Dallas, I don't want to bury my baby," his mother squeaked out between sobs. She didn't want to lose him to the streets, like so many other mothers already have. "You can come back as soon as you straighten out, but if you don't leave now I'm going to lose you."

He'd seen his mom cry plenty of times, but never like this. Never because of the fear that her son was going to die. He'd imagined she had before, but never in front of him. He kept his face stony and hard when he agreed, but only with the fear of dropping it he'd crumble. He didn't want to die. The image of his mother huddling over his casket proved to be too much. He was determined to come back to her one way or another.

A year later he would get a Christmas card from her, a picture of her, her husband, and new born baby sprawled across it. He didn't even know she had a boyfriend, he wished he paid more attention to her. He ripped it up and never spoke to her again.

A fourteen year old Dallas arrived in Tulsa, struck by the lack of pollution and tall buildings. He had an address written down on a piece of paper that his mother gave him. He stood in front of the small run-down house for a while, debating on going in or not. He finally walked up the porch, knocking on the door. He wanted to throw up.

"Hey, Dal," his dad greeted him at the door, with a kind of deer-in-headlights expression. He looked just like him. Dallas hated him on the spot. He hated the world.

Mr. Winston had a problem with the bottle, working the night shift and drinking and sleeping all day. Dallas stayed locked up in his room most days, remembering his life in New York and stewing over how much he hated it here.

Dally's dad was both physically and emotionally abusive at times. He'd smack him around a lot, hating the fact that he'd gotten his high school sweetheart pregnant. One day Dally's dad literally dragged him to get a haircut, he hated Dally's hair long. Maybe that's why Dally never got haircuts. He was really upset and decided it'd be a good idea to mouth of to his dad, he ended up with a belt to his back and a tough looking shiner.

That was the last straw, Dally ran out of the house and never looked back. He still had a taste for alcohol that would never leave him. Several weeks prior he had sauntered into a bar, expecting to get a drink. The bartender laughed in his face and sent him along. While walking away, a guy a few years older than him followed him out.

"Hey, man. I could get you some booze, might cost you some, though," he explained to Dallas. His name was Buck, he had a real goofy grin. He apparently had some sort of party house, where all the kids in the neighborhood could drink up without getting carded.

One night Buck was out driving around when he saw Dallas sleeping on a park bench. He offered him a room for the weekend, but after that he couldn't help him out. That Saturday Buck took Dally to the rodeo with him. Somehow, Dally had suckered him into letting him ride for one of his events. He did pretty damn good for it being his first time. After that, Buck offered Dallas a permanent room so long as he did well for him in the rodeos, which he did.

Dallas liked Buck, it just wasn't the kind of place he wanted to live in. There was no one to cook for him, or do his laundry, or clean up after him. He had a terrible time sleeping at night with Hank Williams blaring through the thin floorboards.

"I'm keepin' his legacy alive," Buck would say, dumbfounded that someone didn't want to hear his music at all hours of the day.

It didn't take long for Dally to realize he could get the girls to do just about anything for him if he just paid a speck of attention to them. Some of the older girls that hung around Buck's, in their early twenties, felt sorry for Dal and would often stay to make him breakfast or wash his clothes. All he had to do was whisper something dirty in their ear and they'd be under his spell. He was smart, he knew what he was doing.

"Just watch this," he'd told Two-Bit one time after bringing him to Buck's. He approached a girl who had probably had too much to drink and began sweet talking her. Two-Bit could tell from the pink covering her cheeks that it wasn't anything to be proud of. A short, few minutes later she was following Dally up to his room, the same shameful walk she'd make in the morning.

There was no denying Dally's spell on women. He typically went for the greasy, makeup clad girls from his side of town that cussed and smoked too much. Sometimes he'd manage to score out of his league. No matter who they were, they'd be gone in the morning before he woke up. Scrambling to get dressed quietly, they'd make their way out of Buck's with a heavy heart and regret. They knew the score.

For the few nights that Buck wasn't having a party, Dally had to fend for himself. There was never anything in the fridge, and Dally was such a picky eater. He was spoiled as kid, with his mom always preparing his favorite home cooked meals. He knew if he was going to eat he'd have to find something for himself.

On one of those days, Dally made his way down to the grocery store with a few bucks he "found" in one of Buck's rooms. He was just coming to get a few things; milk, a candy bar, and two boxes of cereal. Buck always made fun of him saying that he ate like a little kid. Dally would just give him the finger.

Dallas decided against getting a basket and just carried everything to the register. While walking, he bumped shoulders with someone, dropping what was in his hands.

"Watch where you're going!" He whipped around real quick, startled by what he saw. She was beautiful, surely she was old enough to be his mother. She muttered a soft "sorry" and helped him pick everything up.

"Here, let me help you carry these things to your mother's cart," she insisted.

"Ain't got a mom, ma'am," he said with a hint of anger. He was still resentful towards his mother for sending him off to this hell hole. Her face dropped, and he momentarily felt bad for not lying.

"Well I'm Mrs. Curtis. You must know my son Sodapop from school, you look to be about the same age."

"Don't go to school, ma'am," he drawled. She searched his face for some sort of joke, but there was nothing. After a few minutes of going back and forth Dallas finally agreed to go over to her house for dinner.

He half wondered if maybe Mrs. Curtis had a crush on him, but then scolded himself for thinking so stupidly. Walking into the small house, he was greeted by four guys. One looked his age, the other looked a bit younger, one was probably older, and then there was their father.

Sodapop was too rambunctious, he was constantly poking everyone and running around the house with some goofy grin. Dally had to hold himself back from socking him. Dally made some joke about Ponyboy's name, and after seeing no one laugh, he quickly mumbled an "it was just a joke". He was a quiet kid, but had some smart-ass tendencies, he liked that about him. Dally instantly clicked with Darry, he was still craving that older brother relationship with someone. Darry was apparently the star of the football team, maybe he'd go watch him play one day.

Mrs. Curtis insisted that he come over tomorrow after school to meet the boys' friends. He nodded and made his way back to Buck's. There was something different about Dallas that the Curtis family couldn't quite place. He seemed so indifferent to everything, like the life had been sucked straight out of him. They wondered how he'd fit into the lively crowd they hung around with.

No one knew how well he'd mesh with the little dark eyed boy down the street, or how close they'd become. No one knew what went on in his mind. No one knew that he'd take his own life, there was so much that no one knew about Dallas Winston.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Over the years, Dallas grew close to the six boys who hung around the Curtis's house. He never let them in, though, and that often worried them. He'd always be there for them, but only to a certain extent. Never on an emotional level. He was cold, and seeing the nice relationship the Curtis boys had with their parents and Two-Bit had with his mother only deepened it. When Mrs. Curtis died Dally lost it. She was like a mother to him, the type of friend-like mother. When he lost Mrs. Curtis it finally registered to him that he didn't have a mother, that he didn't have a family. It would make him even colder than he was before.

Dally liked Steve, the two just never grew incredibly close. Steve hated the way Dally treated the girls that hung around them, always trying to get in their pants. Dally always felt like he came second to Sodapop, which he did. He always liked to be the very best at whatever he did, he was extremely competitive. So naturally, it irked him that Steve could like someone more than him. However, one night Steve showed up at the Curtis's with a shiner, presumably from his asshole of a father. Dally was just about ready to go over there and teach Mr. Randle a good lesson.

"You don't have to, it'll just start more problems," Steve mumbled as Darry got him a pack of ice. Maybe Dally didn't think Steve liked him, maybe he didn't realize he did until he almost collapsed beside his bullet-ridden body, overcome with grief.

Two-Bit and Dallas had developed a really nice friendship over the years. They'd often go to Buck's and try to pick up girls, offering to be each other's wingmen. As much as his jokes annoyed him, Dally could never stay mad at Two-Bit. He had such a silly smile that one look at him and Dally couldn't help but to crack a smile. One time at Buck's, Dallas managed to chat up a real pretty broad, way out of his league. Two-Bit had convinced himself that she was only into him because of his reputation.

"So you're the famous Dallas Winston?" The girl settled her hands on the hem of Dally's shirt.

"That's not Dallas. That's Texas," Two-Bit burst into a fit of giggles over his own lame joke. He kept up the comments just enough to push Dally right at the edge of his limit. He knew where the line was and knew it'd mean trouble if he crossed it, but he never did.

"I'm going to kill you, Keith," Dally said through gritted teeth. Clearly the girl fancied a sense of humor over a bad boy reputation, because she let Two-Bit walk her home as the night ended. Dally swore he hated Two-Bit, he didn't though.

Sodapop liked Dally's recklessness, just as he liked his own. He thought he was pretty interesting, but he kept a distance. Mostly due to Darry's recommendation. Sometimes when the boys would all go out to the diner, Dally would try chatting up some chicks, he'd get real dirty with it, too. It gave Sodapop a thrill to see them blush, and 9 times out of 10, he would join in.

Ponyboy was afraid of Dallas, he'd seen him get really angry a handful of times and knew what he was capable of. He never knew if he would say something stupid that would just set him off. Dally was fun to draw though, his sharp features practically jumping off the piece of paper. Ponyboy spent most of his time with Dally and Johnny, just walking around town. Dally cared for Ponyboy in an inconspicuous way, but he was always resentful of his relationship with Johnny. Ponyboy kind of always figured that Dally just saw him as a third wheel when the three were together. He didn't think he even liked him, not until he heard Dally's last words. Pony. It haunted Ponyboy for the years to come what Dallas was trying to say.

Dally respected Darry in a sense, he admired how he'd always managed to stay out of trouble. Darry didn't mind throwing the football around with Dally or playing cards, but anything passed that he couldn't do. He had too much on the line to throw it away for one drunken night on the town. Dally respected that, Darry had goals and he didn't want to mess that up for him. He always did think he was stupid for not going off to college, though.

No bond can ever come close to the one Dally and Johnny shared. There was no immediate attraction, just a silent respect towards one another. One night Dally was walking around, hunting some action, when he passed by the Cade household. He heard screaming, and what he saw through the window made him see red. Mr. Cade was beating on Johnny, for what inconsequential thing, no one knows. Dally took it upon himself to go in there and start hitting Mr. Cade. Johnny's mom called the fuzz and Dally was arrested. Johnny never forgot that night.

Dally always had a place to stay, whether it was Buck's, the Curtis's couch, or even sometimes the Mathews's couch. Johnny never liked to inconvenience anyone when he'd run out of his house, whether his parents were mad at him or mad at each other. Johnny spent many nights in the vacant lot, trying to get away from his problems. If you ask Dally he'll say Buck kicked him out, but in reality, he spent the night there with Johnny sometimes to make sure he was okay.

Johnny was always craving acceptance from Dally, he loved him. When he ran into that burning church he was afraid that Dally would be mad at him, he was afraid he wouldn't come see him. Dally could never be mad at Johnny. When he said he was proud of him, Johnny felt like he had accomplished what he always wanted. He felt it was okay to let go. Dally was always in control, when he lost Johnny he couldn't stand it. It had taken him 17 years to learn what it's like to love someone, and that someone was Johnny. He knew that he could never feel this way for another human being again, and the years to come would be torture. So Dally did the only thing he would have wanted to do, be with Johnny.

None of the 5 remaining boys ever thought that Dally's last moments would be fulfilling a suicide mission. The death-by-cops scenario was easier to swallow. They always pictured he'd die in a botched robbery, or maybe in jail, or by getting into a fight with the wrong person. They'd always known he'd die by his own account, though.

There was a lot that the gang couldn't understand about him. They didn't know what he did at Buck's, when the music quieted down and he was all alone. They didn't know what he did while he was in jail. Sometimes Dally'd head up to Windrixville or wherever else he could hide away when life caught up to him.

There was a lot they didn't see, and maybe they'd never know the other side of Dallas that wasn't out when they were around. But two people knew Dally, just as well as the gang, maybe even better. Maybe just in a different way. Tim Shepard and Sylvia, they knew Dally.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

A fight broke out at the diner one summer day, it was a few greasers against these socs who were on their side of town. Nobody really knew each other, it was just a common reaction to team up against the socs. They didn't belong there, they couldn't have all the stops and then come on over to the east side just for kicks.

The fuzz got called before anyone had time to make a break for it. Most of the kids got off with a phone call home or a warning. All except for two boys, both greasers. They were always on the cop's radar, they were going to be taken in for anything they did. Everyone just wanted them off the streets.

"Dallas Winston and Tim Shepard in the same holding cell?" The guards would all chuckle as they walked passed the two of them. Dallas and Tim didn't know much about each other, just what they've heard from others. And that was that they were exactly alike.

"Where ya from?" Tim asked Dally. Born and raised in Tulsa, Tim didn't recognize that accent. It's kind of hard to get out of Tulsa once you're in it.

"New York City, man. Where the _real_ gangs are," Dally smirked. He'd heard about the Shepard gang, and to him it didn't seem like they were tough. He was used to the robberies, the killings, the drugs; all the things that had turned him so cold.

"Sure don't seem like it. How's the Curtis outfit representin' you?" Tim scoffed. The Shepard gang was exactly that, a gang. They were tougher and meaner than the boys Dallas hung around. They were much more of a brotherhood, something Dally wasn't used to. Maybe in a way Tim made him miss New York City, but he'd never say.

"Fuck off," Dallas rolled his eyes, not wanting to be confused as someone soft. The two ignored each other, standing on either side of the wall. They hated each other, but they constantly were striving to one up the other. Tim was the leader of his gang, and part of Dallas wished he could be.

"Shut up!" The two yelled at the same time. A young kid in the cell next to them wouldn't quit crying. First timer, it was obvious. Dallas and Tim had each had their fair share of prison life, it was just another weekend to them. Dallas and Tim knew they'd be seeing one another again.

Tim Shepard was tough, but not passed feeling anything. He wasn't like Dallas, not quite as mean. He surely wasn't like anyone else in the Curtis outfit, though. He was his own person, he often wondered if he was anything like his father, he hoped not.

No one really knows what happened to Mr. Shepard, anyone who does doesn't say anything about him. He wasn't worth mentioning according to Tim, not that his step-dad was any better. In the beginning it was fine, family dinners weren't too unbearable, the guy wasn't so bad. As time passed, Tim's mother and step-dad grew apart, they were constantly fighting. The fights started to get worse, objects were flung at each other. At times the three Shepard children would join in just to get them to stop, or purely out of anger.

"Don't know why you don't just divorce him already," Tim would mumble as he helped his mother clean up a shattered picture frame. He knew she couldn't though, his job was the only reason they could afford a three bedroom house, no matter how run-down it was.

His gang was his escape. He stopped hanging around the house and started hanging around the streets. He found that the tougher he was, the meaner he was, the more of a following he got. It was obvious that Tim would be the leader, he was organized and all business.

"I don't know how many goddamn times I have to tell you to keep your side of the fuckin' room clean," Tim had said to his younger brother, Curly on numerous occasions. If it were Curly's choice, he'd be perfectly content with living in a barn. Tim would just give in eventually and clean it for him, Curly knew this and used it to his advantage. His sister, Angela would stand in the doorway watching him with a huge smirk, she and Curly loved to get to Tim. Tim would just throw something at her and slam the door.

Curly Shepard was just like Tim, with the same catlike features and smooth talking charm. Curly always wanted to be like Tim, and he strived for his acceptance. When he was at an adequate age, Tim started to bring him around the gang and let him take care of some small "business matters". Tim was smart, since he was a greaser many doubted this fact but he knew far more than he let on. Prior to falling in with the wrong crowd Tim actually did pay attention in class. Curly didn't have half a brain most of the time, so it was up to Tim to not let him get taken advantage of. If it were up to the rest of the gang they'd be making Curly do all the dirty work, keep themselves out of trouble. Tim was his protector, though, and he wouldn't let that happen.

Angela was Tim's little sister, and boy was she ever beautiful. She had long dark hair that had all the boys her age, and older, swooning. Tim made a strict rule to everyone in the gang that Angela was off limits. Anyone that disobeyed this rule would personally get their ass kicked by Tim and Curly. Angela wished her brothers wouldn't get hauled off to jail so often because she did miss them, but it only boosted her street cred. She liked having tough brothers, and in turn it made her tough. She could handle her own unlike most girls she hung around with. Tim was always keeping Angela in check, though, it was okay if Curly got hauled off but definitely not her.

"You're not going out tonight, Angel," Tim said as he and Curly were shrugging on their jackets to go out on the town. Tensions had been high lately and it wasn't safe for the greaser girls to go out late without a man, even if they were in a group.

"Two dollars says I am," Angela rolled her eyes and went down the hallway to fetch her shoes. She was a spit fire, and even the big bad Tim Shepard couldn't boss her around that easily.

"You're staying home," Tim yelled at her, right on her heels. "It's fucking dangerous and you're not going, that's it."

"Fine," Angela flopped on her bed. "Didn't want to go out anyway, I was just trying to get a rise out of you. Looks like I did a pretty good job." Angela would never let Tim know that he'd beat her, she'd never give him the satisfaction. She knew that he was just trying to protect her, but she resented how he was always on her tail about something. She sided more with Curly because of that.

Dallas followed Tim home one night to find out where he lived, it was all a part of his newest scheme. When the two were on decent terms of their on-again-off-again relationship Dallas would sometimes stop by to annoy Tim. In that aspect his relationship with Tim was much like his relationship with Sylvia.

Curly hated Dallas, in more ways than one. Curly was constantly wanting to please Tim and earn his respect, he hated that Dally had won it so easily. Dally thought of Curly as a tag along, much like how Steve thought of Ponyboy. They tolerated each other, though.

Dally had seen Angela one time at the diner, it not even occurring to him that this was Tim's sister. All he saw was a beautiful girl, one that he was hoping he could get lucky with. That's where most girls went wrong. They thought Dallas loved women, but in reality he just loved using women for whatever he needed them for.

"Hey, baby," Dallas cooed in Angela's ear, then dropping a dirty line that he'd often used. He expected her to blush or something that his other interests did, but she simply just whirled around.

"I'm Tim's sister, dumbass," she spat. She only knew of Dallas from what her brothers said, which was mostly to stay away from him. A few of her friends had hooked up with him, and she remembers putting an arm around her teary-eyed friends, telling them to "screw him".

"He doesn't have to know," Dallas leaned in, twirling a piece of her dark hair around his finger. He loved his girls fiery.

"We'll see about that," Angela pushed her chair back, purposely bumping shoulders with him as she exited the diner. She went straight home and told Tim about the encounter. On any other day Tim wouldn't have cared, he knew Angela wouldn't go for Dallas anyway. She didn't want to date any of her brothers' friends, she didn't want them in her business. Tim had just got stood up, though, and he needed to blow off some steam.

Tim drove right over to Buck's, banging impatiently on the door. He got a nice hook to Dally's jaw when he opened the door, much to Dally's surprise. He quickly recovered and the two had it out on Buck's porch.

"Are you two crazy?" Buck came outside, pulling the two off of each other. "I don't need the cops poking their heads around here, ya dig? I don't care if y'all fight, but you're not doing it here." With that the two parted ways, they were no longer angry at each other. Dally knew he had what was coming to him, so he wasn't mad. They fought and that was it, they'd have each other's back if they needed it the next day.

Dally and Angela actually got along pretty well after that, they developed a sort of brother/sister relationship. They were constantly bickering, but it was all in good nature. Tim wasn't too fond of it, but as long as Dally didn't try anything he didn't mind too much. One time Angela and her boyfriend got into a fight and he said some real nasty things to her, maybe even put his hands on her. She wouldn't say. It was the first time Dally ever saw her cry, and it was the first time in a long time her brothers had seen her. It was enough to make them all see red. Dally, Curly, and Tim all went on over to where he last was. He was no match, they broke his arm and left a cut running from his ear to his chin. He never spoke a word to or about Angela again.

Angela was really outgoing, she had friends from all different walks of life. Sometimes she'd hang out with the makeup clad, cussing greaser girls. Then, sometimes she'd hang out with the softer spoken middle class girls. It all depended on her mood and who she felt like keeping company with.

Dally had some beef to settle with Tim, and much to his dismay, he couldn't find him anywhere. He'd checked the drive-in, the diner, even his house. No sign of him. He was just about to give up when he caught sight of a familiar person.

"Hey, Angel!" Dally shouted, jogging up the sidewalk to catch up with her. "Have you seen-" Angela and the girl she had been walking with turned around, Dallas meeting eyes with the other girl.

She was quite the looker, but in an innocent kind of way. She had little kitten heels on with some red nail polish. He'd never seen her before. She had blonde hair that flowed over her shoulders in little ringlets. The way she looked down, a blush covering her cheeks, when he looked her over got him going. He wanted her, and Dallas Winston always got what he wanted.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Got yourself an innocent over here, Angel?" The smirk only grew on Dally's face as he looked the girl over. He knew this girl had to have been a little older than Angela, right around his age. She had a real young, fresh face, though. Maybe that's why he thought of her as innocent.

The girl looked over her shoulder, searching behind herself. He wondered what she was doing, maybe she was crazy. "There someone else here? 'Cause I know I'm not no innocent," she returned his smirk. He liked her immediately.

"Well you see, I'm Dallas Winston," he clicked his tongue with a confident air. Dallas loved his name, but more so the reputation that came with it. He was proud, there was no denying that.

"I know who you are," was all she said. He was proud, but she was proud, too. She knew better than to get involved with a hood like him. He wondered if she played that looking-down-and-blushing trick on all the guys. He also knew it had to work a lot. She really got him going.

"C'mon Sylvia, let's go out of here," Angela yanked on her arm impatiently. Dally watched as the two girls stalked off, the blonde particularly in his sights. He was going to see her again, she'd come find him, most girls did. Sylvia. He liked the sound of it, he wondered what it would sound like with her underneath him.

Dally had a knack for getting girls, all different types. There was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't get this broad. Sure she was playing hard to get, but that was all a part of the game for him. He liked a fight.

"Hey Pony, how 'bout I walk you home from school tomorrow?" Dally mused as he was sitting at the dinner table with the Curtis family. He often went there for a nice home-cooked meal, heaven knows he wasn't getting any at Buck's.

Mrs. Curtis made a remark about her being able to pick up the boys and grab Dally from Buck's after school, she was a full-time mom. Ponyboy was just about to agree with her when he received a sharp kick to the shin from under the table.

"No that's fine, Mom. I'll walk with Dally," Ponyboy let out in a hoarse whisper, leg throbbing under the table. He didn't know what Dally was up to, but he knew it was in his best interest to play along.

Ponyboy finished out his day at middle school, dreading the long walk home with Dallas. He didn't know how to feel about him quite yet, and he did scare him. The rest of the boys were in high school, which was right next to the middle school. The boys all piled into Two-Bit's car at the end of the school day, except for Ponyboy, he preferred to walk. Two-Bit's mom let him use the car as long as he dropped her off at work on his way to school, sometimes she'd just take the bus. She'd let him get away with murder.

Ponyboy exited the building, his eyes scanning the parking lot for Dally. He finally found him, but he wasn't even facing in the correct direction, he was facing the high school. Ponyboy knew Dally never went to school in Tulsa, so he figured he just didn't know. Then he knew what Dally was doing, he saw a group of girls walk by. Ponyboy wasn't really into girls yet, but he knew they were pretty.

 _He found her_. Dallas sauntered across the parking lot, leaving Ponyboy desperately lagging behind. He went deliberately up to the group of girls, yanking on a lock of the blonde's hair.

"Hey!" She snapped, turning around. The surprise written on her face quickly turned to anger. "Dallas."

"Hey baby," Dally's infamous smirk plastered on his face. "Was just coming to get my friend," he jerked a thumb at Ponyboy, "and I thought I spotted a certain blonde." Dally would never let her know he came to look for her, it'd make it too easy for her.

"Goodbye, Dallas," Sylvia huffed, walking along with her friends down the street. Ponyboy wanted no part of this, he was tired and had homework. He left and walked home by himself, Dallas didn't even notice.

The whole walk Dally was trying to sweet talk Sylvia's friends, he figured it'd make her jealous. It didn't. He didn't even like her, hell he didn't even know her. But the fact that she didn't want him made him want her that much more. It was psychology or some shit like that, he figured.

By now all the girls had turned down separate streets, making their ways home. Dallas still walked in step with Sylvia, eyeing her the whole way.

"Go away," she groaned inwardly. The guy hadn't made the best first impression on her and she certainly didn't want to walk all the way home with him.

"Maybe I want to see where you live," Dally's smirk just growing, and he did. "Maybe I want to climb in your window at night and-"

"Get lost!" Sylvia whirled around, yelling in his face. If she hadn't been before she was now fully convinced that he was just a disgusting, disrespectful hood.

"Afraid I already am," Dallas gave an exaggerated look around the neighborhood. He knew where he was, he knew the layout of this town with his eyes closed and drunk. He knew she was getting close to her breaking point, and he loved it.

"Call your mommy, maybe she'll come pick you up," Sylvia shoved her middle finger inches away from his face. She was done playing games.

"Don't got a mom." For a moment there was regret etched into Sylvia's face, and Dally tried to keep his smile hidden. He loved getting a reaction out of her, he won. "So tonight?"

Sylvia didn't know what she was doing, maybe she didn't even care. She could use a good time just like him, and if they were just using each other she could be content with that. Maybe after one night with him he'd leave her alone. "Pick me up at 8," and with that, she ran down the street and into a little white house. He always got what he wanted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Dallas walked back to the Curtis's house, just now realizing that he left Ponyboy. By now everyone was back at the house, eating some snack that Mrs. Curtis always prepared for them after school, no matter how old they were.

"Dallas, I thought you were going to walk Ponyboy home from school today?" Mrs. Curtis poked her head out from the kitchen as Dally walked inside. She hated when the boys walked alone, it always worried her. She wished they had enough money to live in a neighborhood where she wouldn't constantly have to worry about her kids' safety. But she also knew she'd never leave her other kids behind, all four of them. Two-Bit was the only one with a stable mom, and she felt responsible for them.

"Sorry, ma," sometimes Dally would call her that. He knew she wasn't his mom, but he sure wished she was. "I met up with someone," he sent a smirk in Ponyboy's direction.

"Who?" Two-Bit piped up from his spot on the floor, the living room was not built for 7 rambunctious boys. Dally didn't answer. Most of the time he didn't like the boys in his business, other times he just liked to watch them squirm. Ponyboy wondered which one it was this time.

"Pony, who was it?" Two-Bit changed his tactic. Ponyboy couldn't keep a secret, the older boys usually took advantage of that.

"I don't know," Ponyboy shrugged, he was still in middle school and easily only knew two of the high school girls' names. "A blonde, she was walking with that girl Steve likes." One night Soda let it slip to Ponyboy who Steve liked, he was even worse with keeping secrets. You couldn't miss the glare Steve was sending him.

"Oh c'mon, we all know Stevie's got a crush on Evie," Darry chuckled from the recliner. Everyone knew that was his chair when his dad wasn't home.

Two-Bit knew all the cliques in school, and who was friends with who, and who was dating who. It was part of the reason he loved to go to school, he liked knowing everyone's business. "Sylvia?" Two-Bit sent Dally a grin, and he knew he was right.

Dally nodded, keeping his cool like usual. "Taking her out tonight." The boys always liked to hear about who Dally was on to next, he seemed to be one of the only ones with some real interesting stories.

Dally departed a few minutes later, not one to stick around too long. However, he didn't leave without ruffling Johnny's hair and grabbing two cookies from Mrs. Curtis for the walk.

Before going back to Buck's to get ready, he decided he'd unwelcomingly stop over Tim's. He was hoping Tim liked Sylvia, after all, he did meet her while she was with Angela. Part of his reason for even asking the girl out was to get back at Tim. He didn't know for what, but it was something the two always did.

"Hey Tim," Dally walked right into the Shepard's house. "You know that blonde chick, Sylvia?"

"What did you do to her?" Angela sent Dally daggers from across the room. She was extremely protective of her friends, and she was determined to keep them all away from the Dallas that she knew.

"Go take a nap, kid," Dally shooed her away. Dally was eating up the confusion etched into Tim's face.

"Yeah, I know her. She's Angel's friend." Tim knew Sylvia pretty well, she'd spent a couple weekends at their house. She was nice enough, but also a spitfire, which let him and Curly have fun messing around with her. He considered her a sister at times. Angela couldn't date any of his friends, so to make it fair he couldn't date any of hers. Not that he'd want to, Tim usually liked girls his own age, maybe even a little older.

"Taking her out tonight," Dally smirked. "Maybe I'll even get a little lucky." He loved getting a rise out of Tim, and he usually had the upper hand by dating Angela's friends that Tim knew. Tim would just get back at him by screwing his exes, it was a never ending cycle.

Angela sent Tim a helpless look. "I'll kick your ass," Tim stood up, eye level with Dallas. He hated the way Dally was with girls. Sure they were similar, but both parties knew what they were getting into on Tim's side, it was all for a good time. Dally took the innocent, the broken, the drunk, the alone; he didn't care. Tim was nicer with girls than Dally, it was probably due to the fact that he had a sister.

"Better go get ready," Dally shot Angela a wink before exiting the house. He loved messing with people, and if he could get a girl on top of it, he truly was the winner.

Dally went downstairs at 8, he had a habit of always being late. "Buck, can I borrow your car?"

Buck let him borrow his car from time to time, he didn't really care to think that Dally didn't have a license. In fact, Dally had taught himself how to drive on Buck's t-bird. "Not tonight, Dal."

"I got somewhere to be, I'll put some gas in it," Dally grabbed the keys from where he knew Buck hid them. Dally could always get his way, Buck was a pretty easy-going guy and it didn't take much for Dally to boss him around.

Dally pulled up to Sylvia's house, giving the horn a little honk to let her know he was there. He was never one for romantics. A few seconds later he saw the porch light go on and the little blonde walk out onto the porch. He smirked inwardly at the length of her skirt.

"You're late," she plopped into the passenger seat. She knew Dally didn't have a license, and that this wasn't his car, but she didn't ask. Dally always liked that about her.

"You just expected me too early," Dally floored it out of the driveway before she even had a chance to put on her seatbelt. He was a terrible driver, fast and obnoxious.

"What's wrong with you?" Sylvia gasped, her stomach dropping to her ankles. She was suddenly regretting agreeing to this date.

It was finally starting to get warm out again and Dally had the top down of Buck's car. Sylvia couldn't stop her skirt from flying up a little, and Dally had the rear view mirror adjusted to just the right spot. She punched his arm.

Sylvia was sassy, she could hold her own against any boy. She always found herself constantly on the defense with boys, she hardly ever went out with any. She blamed that on her father.

Both of her parents worked long hours, she could probably be considered middle class because of that. She didn't like labels. Her father worked on a ranch, grooming and feeding horses most of the time. She'd gone with him a couple of times and had grown pretty fond of riding horses. It's not that he was abusive, he just didn't give her the time of day, it was like he didn't care about her. Lord knows he always wanted a son.

She remembers seeing her dad helping one of girls at the rodeo one day, she couldn't have been much older than herself. She'd never seen him look at her like that, like he was proud. Sylvia went home and cried. She dyed her hair the same color as that girl, platinum blonde. He still ignored her. She still dyed her hair.

She hated men because of him, she thought they were all the same. It wasn't until she met Dally that that all changed. It was then that she realized how unexperienced with boys she was. It was then that she realized how much she was craving some male attention.


End file.
